


White Knuckles

by Semi_problematic



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, If You Squint - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, References to Depression, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 11:23:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20834657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_problematic/pseuds/Semi_problematic
Summary: This world wasn't the world he wanted to be in. In this world the only thing left of Eddie was the inhaler in Richie's pocket and his voicemail."Edward Kaspbrak here. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the phone but I promise I will get back to you as soon as possible. Have a good day!"





	White Knuckles

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda wanna make this a multi part series of Richie listening to Eddie's voicemail to cope,,, would y'all want that?

"I thought you had left town." Mike said as he settled into his seat. The diner was a small one located in the middle of nowhere off a highway only truckdrivers use. "I didn't know you were still this close." 

"You're moving." Richie said. "I flew down. I knew you would still be here." The coffee in front of him swayed back and forth as he bounced his leg, his knee grazing the underbelly of the table each time. "I didn't want to miss you." 

"You could have called." Mike smiled warmly, raising his finger to call the waitress over. Sunlight peaked over the hills beside the diner. 

"I..." Richie didn't know how to say it. How to admit that he couldn't leave. He looked for any excuse he could to slip back into Derry. He had been in the town once a week since it all ended. The visits messed up his touring and shows. "I'm sorry I called so early." 

"I don't mind. I've always been an early riser. Growing up on a farm can do that to a person." He winked, ordering a coffee as the woman passed by. "Anyway, what's up?" 

"It... it couldn't wait. I tried. I have been trying..." Richie swallowed at the lump in his throat, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. He felt hot all over. "I got here last night. Around midnight. I keep coming back." 

"Why?" He sounded as surprised as Richie figured. Three months, two days, and nine hours had passed since they left the house. And Richie kept coming back. 

"There is no grave." Richie muttered, rubbing his face. He was shaking. "Nothing. The house isn't even there, Mike. And he's down there. Trapped. Alone. He didn't even get fucking buried. His wife... he's just a missing person." 

Mike sucked in a breath, taking the coffee from the woman and curling his fingers around it. He leaned over, hunching over his coffee. "Eddie." Richie wondered what it was like to be lucky enough to remember him. And not to think about him every minute of every day. The blood. How his chest slowly rose and fell before stopping all together. How he died alone. 

"Why does everyone get to be happy and he doesn't even get to fucking leave the sewer?" Richie asked. He hasn't been sleeping. He popped any pill he could find and had drank instead of eat. Richie was a skeleton walking. "I don't get it. I don't fucking get it. We... everyone left. Beverly and Ben are traveling. Bill has a new book. You're fucking moving!" 

"Richie-" Mike hissed. "Calm down. You're making a scene." 

"I need... I need something. There is no grave to visit. There's nothing. I can't keep living like this. Knowing that he's down there. Rotting." He shook his head. "I-I-I won't. I need something." 

"You aren't making sense." Mike replied. His face was cold. "We can't go back down there. We won't. And we won't let you. I know... I know it's hard. My parents barely had bodies left. But... I can't sit here and cling to that." 

"I want his phone number." Richie said. It wasn't a question, instead it was a demand. "Now. I want it. And I'll do anything to get it. But his wife... I can't look at her. She's just... she's just like his fucking mother. Babying him. Talking to him like he's some weak bitch." He shook his head, shutting his eyes. "He was the bravest." He looked up at Mike. "I visited once, pretending to be a cop looking for him-" 

"Richie-" Mike gasped. "That's insane. And illegal-" 

"She thinks it's his fault he's gone. She says he got kidnapped because he left." Richie sighed. "He saved me. That's why." 

"Rich..." Mike whispered. He sounded sad. Scared. "Rich, I can't do this. I can't give it to you. This isn't healthy. Go to therapy. Get some sort of help. Bill is. He's still processing the trauma. And Beverly too. It's a good thing. Don't be afraid to ask for help-" 

"I am!" Richie slammed his fists on the table, coffee spilling across the table. "I'm asking for you to help me, Mike. You're the only person who knows it. I tried... I tried going to his job and they thought I was fucking crazy. Like some stalker. And my manager got mad and said I was ruining my brand and I just..." Richie lowered his voice. "I need you to... to help me." 

"Its not right." Mike replied. "I know it's hard. And you're angry. And you miss him but I can't let you do this. It will only get worse." 

"I just need..." Richie sucked in a breath and rubbed his face, shaking his head. "I just need to say goodbye." 

Mike nodded, looking down at his coffee. "Fine." He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pen, clicking it. He took a napkin and wrote down Eddie's number like he had read it a thousand times before. "But... it may get disconnected one day. And you gotta be ready for that." 

Richie swallowed, gripping the napkin and standing up. He dug out a twenty and tossed it into the table. "Thank you, Mike. Have fun in Florida." 

"It's nothing, Rich." Mike watched him as he walked to the door. "I hope you feel better. We're here for you." His eyes scanned Richie's body. "We don't want to watch you waste away. Come to dinner with us sometime. We want to meet once a month when everyone gets settled." 

Little did Mike know, Richie was already gone. He was numb most days now, never sober. It was a shock that he was able to stand upright, but that was because his manager did all the work. His manager got the jokes and the sets. All Richie had to do was read them and it was enough. 

Richie dug his phone out and typed in the number, deleting it, then typing it again. He was resting against the wall outside when he finally pressed the call button. He raised the phone to his ear and gripped it tight, closing his eyes. 

One ring. 

Two rings. 

Three rings.

Four rings. 

Five rings. 

Six rings. 

"Hey!" 

Richie's heart jumped. His voice was clear through the receiver. 

"Edward Kaspbrak here. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the phone but I promise I will get back to you as soon as possible. Have a good day!" 

Before Richie knew what he was doing he was dialing the number again and pressing the phone to his ear. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. Richie desperately wished he could skip the ringing and just listen to Eddie. 

"Hey!" 

His voice brought him out of his cloudy mind and back into the world. Cars rushed by and people talked inside. This world wasn't the world he wanted to be in. In this world the only thing left of Eddie was the inhaler in Richie's pocket and his voicemail. 

"Edward Kaspbrak here. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the phone but I promise I will get back to you as soon as possible. Have a good day!" 

Richie sniffed and wiped at his eyes. Of course he would say his full name. And to have a good day. And apologize for living. Eddie always had a habit of apologizing for simply existing. Richie re-dailed and waited, chewing on his thumbnail. 

"Hey!" 

"Hi..." Richie breathed out. "I miss-" 

"Edward Kaspbrak here. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the phone but I promise I will get back to you as soon as possible. Have a good day!" 

"I love you." Richie breathed out. This time he let the phone beep. "I... I'm glad you're somewhere better than this place, I-" 

"For more options, press one."

Richie sighed, looking down at his feet. He typed in the number and pressed send, closing his eyes. 

"Hey!" 

"I love you." 

"Edward Kaspbrak here. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the phone but I promise I will get back to you as soon as possible. Have a good day!" 

"You too." 

Richie hung up the phone and walked towards his car. He pulled his keys out and looked down at his hands. His dirty nail beds and chewed down nails accented his hands that curled around his phone and his keys. Richie wanted to call it again. Let his voice sink in. 

Once he was settled in his car he dialed the number again. Richie tapped on the steering wheel and began to drive, pulling out onto the highway. 

"Hey! Edward Kaspbrak here. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the phone but I promise I will get back to you as soon as possible. Have a good day!" 

Richie smiled to himself. It felt as though Eddie was right next to him. He forced himself to keep his eyes on the road to continue the illusion.

"You too, Eds."


End file.
